


I Don't Do Concentrated

by Cheryl_MT



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-18
Updated: 2004-05-18
Packaged: 2018-12-27 01:06:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheryl_MT/pseuds/Cheryl_MT
Summary: Brian discovers the merits of frozen juice.





	I Don't Do Concentrated

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

Brian

I guess I should be glad that Justin takes care of me. I don’t know why he does, well, I do. It’s that L word that I just can’t say yet. And I don’t mean lesbian. It’s a four-letter word. You know what I mean.

Anyway, I come home and find Justin stocking the cabinets and fridge. “Where did you get the money to go grocery shopping?”

“Well, I had a few dollars of tip money in my pocket, but I was out with my Mom when she decided to stock our kitchen. She said I’m still a growing boy and you’re way too skinny. You remember when I first moved in with you, she said I would eat you out of house and home. She still thinks I’m a little kid. Anyway, Mom thought that since you still haven’t got a job, that she would help out a little.”

“Sunshine, we don’t have to accept charity you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but you know how moms are. Wait a minute, I guess you don’t. Apparently, mom sold a big house and made a nice commission, so she said this was a just a little present for us.”

“It’s not like we’re going to starve to death.”

“Yeah, but until you get a J-O-B, this is how it’s going to be.”

“Oooookay. What kind of delicious morsels did you pick up?”

“Well, milk and bread for starters, toilet paper just because. I picked up salad stuff, chicken, hamburger and some other stuff.”

“Did you get me some guava juice?”

“Well, yes and no.”

“What does that mean?”

“Yes, I got you some guava juice, but it’s not your regular kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was trying to economize so that I could get more stuff with less money, soigotyougenericjuice.”

“You want to say that last part again, Sunshine.”

“I got you some generic concentrated guava juice.”

“You know I only drink fresh refrigerated guava juice.”

“I know, but Mom’s regular grocery store doesn’t carry that, so I got a brand in the ethic foods section. It’s just concentrated.”

“Concentrated?”

“Yes, just add some water. It’ll taste just like the kind you like.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’ll make up a can and you can try it.”

“I don’t know about this.”

“Hey Brian, do you know that this stuff has more calories in it than other kinds of juice.”

“Yes, and your point being?”

“Well, aren’t you always bitching about carbs and stuff?”

“I need something to get me jump started in the morning after our intense cardiac activities of the night before.”

I get a look that says ‘yeah, sure’ back from my twat.

After this discussion, I go over to the computer and boot it up. Maybe an e-mail with a job prospect will be there. I posted my resume with Monster.com. How low have I sunk?

Justin finishes putting the food away and putters around the kitchen. Afterwards, he goes and plops down on the futon cushion and picks up his sketchbook. He has a look on his face that has me puzzled. Now I feel like a jerk about the juice. Oh well, maybe it will be OK.

He sketches for about an hour and then bounces into the kitchen to start dinner. He really is a better cook than I am. I’m lucky I can make coffee and not burn the toast. My culinary expertise is picking up the phone and ordering carry-out. . Justin can make a culinary delight out of most anything

After a bit, Justin brings a glass of cold juice over to the computer. He doesn’t say anything, just sits it down on the desk and walks back to the stove. Something smells very yummy.

I know he’s trying to appease my sense of designer labels and elegant foods, but I’m so used to a particular brand of juice. But these are difficult financial times and I know Justin’s trying to help. Oh well, just suck it up Kinney and have a taste.

“Not bad,” I say to no one in particular; hoping I said it loud enough for Justin to hear me in the kitchen.

“You say something, Brian.”

“I said this juice is OK.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t drink concentrated juice.”

“Well, I realize you were trying to make me happy and take care of me, yet try to save some money at the same time.”

He comes over behind me at the computer and wraps his arms around me. “I love you, you big lug.

“I know you do, but when I get back on my financial feet, I’m going back to the fresh juice.”

“Ok,” he says back to me.

~~~~~

Justin

God, he made such a big fucking deal about the guava juice. I know he really likes it and even the concentrated kind I bought was more than orange or cranberry juice. I try to make sure he has things in the fridge that he likes so that he won’t bitch at me for the chips, Oreo cookies, and ice cream that I bought.

I bought just 2 cans of the stuff, just to try. After all, the store that Mom shops in didn’t have fresh guava juice on the shelf.

What I don’t go through for that man.

~~~~~

Later that week:

Brian

While Justin was working a shift at the diner, I went down to the local food market just to pick up a few things. Some skim milk, whole wheat bread and some sliced turkey breast. He knows I don’t eat chips and Oreos, although I do sneak a cookie every now and again.

Oh yeah, and I got some more of that concentrated guava juice. It’s not as bad as I thought it might be.

Actually, I think it’s better than the fresh kind. But, I won’t let Justin know that, at least not yet. Let him think that we’re still economizing.


End file.
